


Helgen? More like Hellgen.

by IceBreeze



Series: Step aside exy, Skyrim is in town [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Skyrim Fusion, Blood, F/F, Minor Character Death, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9442190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceBreeze/pseuds/IceBreeze
Summary: From the moment Allison woke up to find her arms bound in ropes and a headache the size of Sentinel, she knew it was going to be a shit day.(Part 1).





	

**Author's Note:**

> For anon: 'Skyrim au? Skyrim au.'
> 
> Now this was going to be a oneshot but I really really love skyrim and I really really really love dragons, so now this has grown much bigger than expected. Like much bigger, multi-part bigger. So this is going to be a series and I love it to bits. I have big ideas for this au, so I've given it [it's own page on my tumblr](http://polyhymina.tumblr.com/tagged/skyrim-au) so I can keep it all in one place. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

From the moment Allison woke up to find her arms bound in ropes and a headache the size of Sentinel, she knew it was going to be a shit day. She felt disorientated, like she was floundering around with no idea where she was. There was wood against her cheek, as harsh and unfamiliar as the stray splinter digging into her hairline with a vengeance. When she twisted her hands to test the bindings, straining against them, the rope dug in just shy of chafing her skin off. They were moving, almost violent in the carelessness as she was thrown about inside the cart. Or what she assumed was a cart- for all she knew it could be a walking tree.

_(She’d take the trees over the cart any day. At least trees didn’t use swords)._

Flexing her fingers, she tried to draw a little magicka to her palm, not daring to breathe as she waited for the familiar buzzing under her skin, the rush of power to reassure herself that she hadn’t been abandoned by the Divines -or Daedra- just yet. For one terrifying moment she thought it wouldn’t come, that they’d taken everything and she’d have to resort to using her teeth so as not to give the bastards the satisfaction of seeing her quake- but then there was a breath of heat against her skin and the relief flooded through her.

_(At least someone up there still loves her and at this point, she’d take what she could get)._

Someone shifted beside her, the presence of a stare making her skin prickle and she hissed at the realisation that someone had noticed (she’d been careless in her desperation). She realised, reluctantly, that trying to delay it would only make the situation worse, so she sat up and blinked blearily around her in an attempt to feign disorientation. And then she had to bite back a curse because Gods, why couldn’t it be a tree?

The cart (because it was a cart, surrounded by lots of other carts in what seemed to be some sort of morbid death march) was being driven by a very bulky looking man in black armour, whose shoulders were squared and spine straight in the way you only see in soldiers or people who have a huge stick up their ass. (With this guy, she was guessing both). She was dumped in with four other people, all of whom had been tied up like her and had expressions that ranged from oh-god-why to grim resignation. And they all wore armour of matching schemes of red. Maybe they were part of a cult or something, because uniforms seemed to be a general scheme around here and she was trying to be optimistic.

_(Well, that or there was a dress code to this thing and she hadn’t been informed)._

The person beside her shifted and Allison glanced over, only to find her gaze meeting a woman’s concerned eyes. She had gentle features and pale hair that seemed to gleam even through the filth coating it, all things which Allison would have focused more on if she wasn’t a little thrown-off by the intimidating combination of war paint, dried blood and scars. Plus, she looked like she could crush Allison’s skull with her bare hands.

_(Not that any of them have access to their hands right now; they’re a little tied up)._

Allison didn’t realise that she’d been openly staring with something probably nearing panic on her face (which was understandable given the situation but she still hated it; control was something she coveted), until the woman’s voice reached her ears, each word soft and careful:

“Are you alright?”

Ha. No, she didn’t think she was. She had a hangover and yet she hadn’t even gotten any alcohol out of it, she was tied up being carted to who-knows-where, she was alone in a foreign country full of strangers and, apparently, people already wanted to kill her. Her luck was truly a jerk.

_(It felt remarkably like she was the butt of a bad joke)._

The woman’s mouth twisted into a frown and Allison had the belated realisation that she hadn’t blinked in a while and it was long past her cue to say something and the guards around them seemed to have really perfected the art of intimidation because she was finding it a little hard to breathe. Just a little, like a teensy bit, but it still felt like trying to push a fireball into a glass jar. Shaking herself off, she forced herself to focus on the situation in front of her, pushing everything aside and stamping on it until she could try and ignore it.

_(For now she had to keep herself alive. Thinking could come later)._

And then she plastered on a smile- bright, confident and disarming- and said:

“Ah, sorry about that. It’s just usually when I wake up tied up, it’s on a more intimate basis, you know?” She glanced around pointedly. “I can’t say I’ve ever done it quite so... publicly before.”  Then she flashed a wink at the woman, because what the hell, let’s pile everything on there, “But at least there’s still a beautiful woman to enjoy it with.”

There was a rather excessive period of where the entirety of the cart turned to stare. Their expressions ranged from confusion to amusement to someone-hit-her-too-hard, which was more than a little rude. She would have been offended if it didn’t give her the perfect chance to study them, trying to gleam as much information on them as she could in case a fight or something came about that meant she needed to know about them.

_(It never hurt to be prepared)._

The silence lasted for so long that Allison wondered if they’d forgotten how to use words and she was about to turn her attention elsewhere, when the woman laughed and said, “Well, I guess if you can flirt it means you’re alright.”

Nodding sagely was the only reply she gave before asking (because she really had no idea and that wasn’t fun), “I don’t suppose you know what is going on?”

The woman blinked for a moment, glancing her up and down before realisation dawned on her. “Right, you’re not one of ours, are you? We were part of an attack ambushed by the Ravens and they caught you somewhere nearby it seem- probably while trying to cross the border. Shoved you in with us for delivery to Helgen.” Then, as an afterthought,” I’m Renee, by the way.”

“And when you say one of ours, you mean…?”

“A fox.”

In that moment, Allison felt like she'd been hit by a fireball. Breathing suddenly felt a little hard to do because somehow she'd ended up thrown into a group of the foxes and where there were foxes, there were ravens. And if there were Ravens then this group was lined up for slaughter and of course it had to be a rebellion that she ended up in the middle of, just trust her luck. It couldn't have been a petty thief or murder, no it had to be treason and oh, this wasn't good. She'd escaped one situation only to end up in a worse one because wasn't that just lovely, life truly loved to spit on her. She knew Renee was staring at her and that she needed to respond because showing vulnerability whilst surrounded by enemies was not a good plan, so she laughed, or- well, she tried to. It came out little more strangled than she intended, “Ah, wonderful.” 

Renee smiled, the expression startlingly soft, and Allison’s returning grin was a little strained as her magic churned beneath her skin, normally iron control stretched thin as she fought off hysteria. Trying to distract her mind, she tried for idle conversation: 

“I’d say it is a delight to meet you, Renee, but given our circumstances, that would be a lie," her head lowered in a mockery of a bow, "I’m Allison.”

Renee opened her mouth to say something- maybe a comment about her remark, maybe a pleasantry, maybe to tell her she was a unicorn, who knows- but then the cart shuddered as it slowed, shaking them all about with something that Allison half suspected was spite. The light seemed to flee, hurrying away to escape the looming fortress in front of them.

_(She wondered how far she’d get if she threw herself off the cart)._

The gate itself was too small, confining in a way like they’d ran out of wood and decided to leave it to heighten everyone’s discomfort. The cart had barely been able to move through it, wood scraping against the stone with a screech, and Allison had to duck in order to avoid in order to avoid her skull being smashed to pieces before she even got inside. They were paraded through the streets like a freak show, trophies for the civilians to gawk at, shouting obscenities and ushering their children away as though even being near them could cause harm.

_(Though, to be fair, Allison could probably kill them from that distance, if she felt so inclined, so maybe the fear was not entirely unreasonable)._

The cart had plunged into silence from the moment they crossed the threshold, weighed down by the atmosphere and expectations of what was to come. When Allison cast a brief glance at her, Renee’s expression was calm but her eyes were not, and Allison felt her skin prickle with the sudden reminder of a threat. The cart had barely stilled before she was dragged from it like a sack of potatoes, the guard’s hands rough and harsh against her arm as he all but threw her about. The scathing glare she directed at him went ignored completely as she was shoved into a line, her teeth set on edge by the smug superiority that was practically suffocating. Her hands twisted in her bindings, spells thrumming under her skin as she tried to reign in her control, wondering how many she could drag down with her when they tried to kill her.

_(Not many, probably, but she was nothing if not spiteful. If she was going down, there was no fucking way she was going alone)._

* * *

 

Before them stood a Raven with a face that appeared to be a remarkable impression of a giants toe (he even had the smell down and everything), who called each person forward, listed their crimes, and then sent them off to their sentence like some lovely gift. Hovering beside him was a helmeted woman (at least she was assuming it was a woman, their looks didn’t leave much to be desired either. Perhaps it was a requisite of being a Raven- the uglier you are, the higher your rank) who barked out commands, presenting each prisoner with a glare when it was their turn to take the floor. With every name read the numbers dwindled, leaving just her and Renee standing in wait and Allison felt vulnerable, jaw clenched in preparation, when-

“Renee Walker, traitor to the empire.”

Renee moved, proud and far too graceful considering their positions, but her shoulders were square and her face serene as the Raven woman spat at her and she didn’t hesitate to walk to join the queue to Oblivion. The Raven turned back to the list and Allison bit her tongue, forcing her chin up, refusing to let her pride (herself, because pride was one of the few things she had) be cowed by fear as the guards eyes bore into her, the noose tightening around her neck as he read:

“Step forward, prisoner.”

She shrugged away the guards hold on her wrists and complied, holding herself as though she was back in Hammerfell, in a palace coated in gold rather than standing in dirt as people gather to spit on her bones. She met toe-face's stare with a glare when he said:

“Name, prisoner.”

“Allison Reynolds.”

_(Her parents would be horrified that she was using that name for a situation like this, but, well. They could rot for all she cared)._

Unaware of the power behind her name- of the influence she held in a country far away- the guard’s expression twisted into something bordering on rage as he searched the paper again, demanding, “It’s not on the list. Why isn’t your name on the list, Prisoner?”

She scoffed, “How the fuck should I know? It’s your list.”

He did not look amused, which was good with her. To be frank, she wasn’t particularly amused by the situation either. May he choke on his damn list. Like a puppy to its master, he turned to the glaring woman (who was apparently a Captain) and asked what to do. The reply was an utterly inventive:

“To the block!”

So to the block she went, dragged next to Renee in the waiting crowd of soon-dead. She glanced at her, mouth opening with words that would never be known as a Raven advanced on them, cutting of any interaction they could have had. His armour gleamed, a gaudy concoction of black that looked like it belonged on a skeleton, and he carried himself like he owned the earth they stood on, so Allison assumed he was one of the top people. He towered over Renee, his face scrunched up like there was a bad smell and spat:

"You're no hero, fox. You're only a traitor."

Spittle sprayed, as tangible as the venom in his words, but Renee didn't flinch, didn't waver.

"We never claimed to be," she replied, and he scoffed, leaning further until his face was inches from hers, trying so hard to be intimidating that it was almost endearing:

 "Yeah? So what do you claim to be, huh?"

"I'm just a bad person trying hard to be a good person."

He laughed, loud and grating, and said, "Well you can try in Oblivion."

With that he spat at her feet and walked away. Allison stared at Renee out of the corner of her eye to find the woman's posture remain steady, her gaze never moving from the back of the man's armour. There was something almost sad about the way she looked at him, as though she pitied him despite the fact that she was the one who was going to die, and as Allison watched, she found herself curious.

_(She wondered who the woman named Renee Walker truly was. She wanted to know what lay behind the exterior, and though she knew she wouldn’t get any answers, she didn’t really mind._

_It was, at the least, something to think of until she died)._

* * *

 

With the prisoners all lined up and the shouting contest completed, the Priest (Renee said the god was Arkay) began to speak the last rites. The words held little meaning to Allison but she took advantage of the moment to close her eyes and try to breathe, to keep herself calm and try to hold onto her control lest she accidentally set fire to herself in the fear of the moment. If she wanted to get out of this alive she had to remain calm because panicking helped no-one. So she breathed in-

"Let's get on with this already, I haven't got all day!"

Her eyes snapped open as she heard the yell and she watched as a man wearing Fox colours marched to the chopping block, uncertain whether what she felt was irritation (did he want to die or something?), horror (he was driving everything forward faster) or disbelief (seriously, did he want to die or was he just short a brain?). Renee beside her let out a sigh but said nothing, so Allison assumed this was some kind of code honour or dick waving contest or whatever it was her mother had always said.

_("Honestly, darling, you must never marry a Nord. Ill-mannered brutes, the lot of them.")_

Regardless, the man's head was hacked off in a clean hit of the axe, landing in the basket with a thump. The executioner kicked the body aside without any fanfare and a soldier dragged it away, leaving a trail of gore behind them. There was a moment of weighted silence before the Captain turned her glare at Allison, commanding:

“Next Prisoner.”

She approached the block, the air around feeling heavy- crushing, even- like it was trying to force her down, to strangle her. Mouth dry, she came to a stop, staring down at the blood coating the stone block. The world seemed to shake and she realised, absently, that she was trembling. Her magicka felt like oil surrounding her, thick and cloying as her fear rose and rose and rose, just a hairs breadth from igniting- from dragging her down with it in a bid for Oblivion. She struggled to force air in through her nose when a foot was heavy against her back, forcing her to her knees, head pressed against the block and oh, _oh-_

_(Oh god)._

-it was warm. The blood was still warm against her cheek, wet and clinging to her flesh, her _hair_ , and she could see the head beneath her. Under her, right there- _right there_ \- staring up at her with empty eyes, telling her she was next, she would be soon and oh god, she was going to end up like that she was going to die oh Gods please _no_ -

_(She can't have escaped only to die here- not when she'd fought tooth and nail for it, not after all she'd lost._

_Not yet)._

Air whistled by her ears as the axe was raised and she twisted her hands in her bonds, scrambling to grasp the magicka streaming through her, around her, but it slipped through her fingers and she was left grasping at threads, despairing, damned and desperate. She hated begging, hated praying even more, but in that moment she pleaded with every divine- every Daedra- she knew, trying to grasp the fraying strands of luck she had in hopes that something would help her.

( _Anything please, she’d take anything)_

It was held there, suspended over her neck for one second. Two. The world seemed muffled around her and she thought, distantly, that she could hear the sound of wings. She clenched her fists, trying to think of a spell to get out of this, trying not to focus on the sound of the axe dropping, of the metal approaching her neck-

And then the sky burst into flames.

_(In that moment, Allison felt like she’d stared Oblivion in the face and it had let her go._

* * *

 

By the time Renee dragged her into the keep she was near hysterics, the hands warm and patient around hers (thankfully free, the rope sawn off at some point) barely registering in her mind. Renee cupped Allison's face for a brief moment, searching for injuries or to see if she was going to freak out too badly to be left alone or something. Whatever she found must have satisfied her as she nodded and went to hunt for anything of use. Allison ran a hand over her face, trying not to grimace when her hand came away wet.

_(It could have been her blood. Even a second later and she would be dead)._

She muttered, torn somewhere between disbelief and resentment as she tried to make sense of the situation: 

“Fuck, dragons. Of course it’s fucking dragons, why can’t it ever be unicorns or something nice and decidedly not deadly. Ugh, fuck everything. What’s next, bears?”

Renee huffed a laugh that seemed decidedly half-hearted, though that might just be because she was tired. She said:

“Well someone up there must love you.”

“What?” 

Another laugh, one that was definitely amused at her expense- something that should probably have annoyed Allison more than it did. “Well, a dragon swooped in just before an axe killed you. It was your knight in shining armour. Sort of.”

Allison snorted in disbelief, shaking her head. “Right, sure. I guess it was pretty shiny if you look past the wings and the fire.”

Renee’s eyes were crinkled with amusement when she glanced at Allison and they exchanged a smile. The smell of smoke and death lingered on their clothes and there was blood and filth everywhere, but for a moment Allison could almost pretend that they were safe, that they weren’t stuck in the middle of what might well be there grave as the world falls to pieces around them and were instead somewhere warm, a tankard of mead in front of them as they laughed over stories, the sound of a lute playing in the background.

Then the sound of shouting approached and the moment was broken.

* * *

Allison scowled at her smoking hands, flexing them in an attempt to relieve the lingering heat (this was one of the few parts she hated about Seth, that he’d never taught her to stop the side-effects). With a snort she turned her attention to the charred corpse in front of her, inspecting the steel sword that lay in their scabbard before shrugging and shoving it into her belt with little more aggression than necessary. It would have to do. Feeling eyes on her she glanced up to find Renee staring at her with a curious expression, her own looted sword and shield already equipped as she waited beside the now very dead Ravens.

When Allison made an impatient out-with-it-already gesture, Renee said:

“I thought you were a mage.”

Allison rolled her eyes, gasping dramatically, “Really, well fuck me sideways. Here I’d thought everybody shot fireballs from their hands.” Then after a pause, because Renee was actually reasonably nice and she kind of needed her in order to survive so being sarcastic was not her best plan, she added, “It never hurts to have backup in case magic is not an option.”

Renee nodded, saying nothing else as Allison rose and they headed on their way.

_(There would be a time for talk and now was not it)._

* * *

Renee was focused on the lock in front of her, pick careful as she tried to get them into the right position. Allison was silent as she did so, not wanting to break her concentration. She busied herself by hunting around through the books, careful to avoid the remnants of those asshole torturers. She pocketed a spell tome (she already knew the spell but it could be sold for a good price) and was about to turn away when a glint of silver caught her eye, dragging her in like a moth to a flame. She squinted to read the title, fingers tracing the cover, the insignia hard beneath her fingers:

'Book of the Dragonborn.'

Something about the book struck a chord in her, peculiar, like she needed it- like she knew it, somehow.  A click behind her startled her out of her reverie as Renee rose from her crouch, satisfied grin firmly in place as her lockpick was pocketed. She shoved the book in her back and returned the smile as Renee scavenged some coins and another book from inside the cage, carefully avoiding disturbing the bones that were in there.

_(You don’t mess with the dead)._

Everything gathered and the desire to leave strong (because a torture room was not her general choice of vacation), Allison nodded her head towards the door and said:

“After you, oh great warrior.”

Renee stared at her for a moment, scrutinizing her face as though she felt she might be able to figure something out, before nodding, “Thank you, good lady.”

She performed a mockery of a bow and then headed through the door without another word, sword and shield drawn in preparation for another attack. Allison followed after her, magicka pooled in her hand and wondered how the hell her life had come to this.

_(If this was a gift then she wanted a refund)._

* * *

Several wrong turns combined with a god awful number of spiders, a fucking bear (which was, for some reason, the one that shocked her the most because what the hell) and far too many Imperials later, they finally glimpsed daylight creeping through the rock, the sky opening up above them once more.  Allison let out a sigh of relief, pace speeding up even as Renee’s shoulders slackened as they sped to salvation. They ran, dashing through the opening to find sunlight streaming down on their skin, the world opening up once more as they left Helgen behind them. Cold air brushed their skin and Allison shuddered, gaze diving up to where the sky was bright above them, taking in the reminder that they were free-

_(She was alive, she was safe. They couldn’t touch her now)._

-and then the dragon flew overhead,  blocking out the world in a flash of black against blue-  the fleeting impression of wings beating and a shriek of irritation (of dissatisfaction)- before it was gone. Something stirred inside her, the imprint of a feeling (a memory, something that isn’t hers) that slips from her fingers like smoke- there but intangible, leaving behind nothing but a cloying sense of disturbance, of loss.

_(But she doesn’t know what it is and somehow, that seems to be a theme here. The important things are left buried under bones)._

Allison breathed, looking out across the unfamiliar landscape of Skyrim. It greeted her with greenery and soil that thrived amongst the harsh conditions, rolling mountains coated with wildlife and snow, oceans that spread for miles filled with unforeseen wonders and mysteries. Skyrim was packed with life and it was beautiful in a way that was alien to her. She looked at Skyrim and saw something right out of a painting, as though it wasn’t a place wrought with death.

_(She was used to deserts, to endless sand and heat and danger behind every storm, every sand-dune- where the danger didn’t try to mask itself, didn’t pretend._

_Here, the danger was deceptive: it hid behind beauty, luring you into a sense of safety before it strikes)._

When she glanced at Renee, the sun was embracing her, dancing across her skin and hair in a way that made her gleam, like a beacon. When their gazes met her eyes were hard beneath the warmth and there was blood in her face, a harshness that coated her features in a stark contrast to how soft they seemed, to how gentle her smile was. Allison looked at Renee and found herself thinking that maybe the people took after the land they lived in- that beneath their beauty, there was an underlying danger.

_(She looked around her and wondered if she’d truly find a home)._

Shaking away her thoughts, Allison let her lips curl up into a smile that was a touch too genuine for her comfort and said:

“Looks like we’re still alive.”

Renee laughed, a smile spreading across her features and it was tired and her disbelief wasn’t quite hidden, but it was warm and bright and sincere:

“So we are.”

_(And for the moment, that was all that mattered. That was all they needed, because they had survived when all odds had demanded they die._

_Later they would have to move, they would have to figure out a plan and push on through the exhaustion, the pain, the fear- but for now, they would just breathe)._

**Author's Note:**

> Can be found on my[ tumblr, polyhymina.](http://polyhymina.tumblr.com/tagged/skyrim-au)


End file.
